The Way Is Up
by Quell5
Summary: She comes from a destitute home, and yet has a major role to play in the wizarding world’s future. How can that be when she is a Muggle?


**The Way Is Up**

Written by Quell

_In She Comes_

Marla hated roll call. Everyday at five o'clock in the morning, Sister Augustine would wake her charges with the bell that hung just outside the dormitory's door. Marla slept two beds away from that bell and was always the first one on her feet. Then the Sister would take roll call to be sure none of the girls who sneaked out at night had forgotten to come back.

Marla glanced at the bed beside hers as her toes froze on the stone floor. She forgot socks the night before and her feet paid the price as she stood straight for half an hour as the thirty-some teenage girls were called into order.

Dim-witted Nancy overslept again. Marla winced as Sister Augustine ripped back the covers to the twelve-year-old's bed and jerked the sleeping girl to her feet. Nancy screeched horribly as Sister's thick wooden cane rained upon her thighs and lower back again and again. Once the punished girl was released and stood with the other girls at the end of her own bed, the strict nun continued down the line.

Once all girls were accounted for, Sister prayed over them, "Oh, blessed Virgin Mary, keep us pure of heart and body as Satan tempts us all throughout the morn."

"Amen," Marla agreed dully with the other girls then hurried to find her shoes.

Breakfast consisted of porridge mash. Marla stirred the lumpy stew around in her wooden bowl and took a bite without chewing or trying to smell. Cinnamon, she thought, concentrating to see if there was even a hint of spice in the mush. Sister Caroline passed behind Marla, glaring over her shoulder at the somber girl. But Marla never caused trouble, and so Caroline continued along until she reached seven-year-old Dorothy who was crying as she choked down her daily sustenance.

To Marla's surprise, a few flecks of brown rose to the surface as she turned over the lukewarm cereal. She grimaced, as she tasted the bit; it was wood shavings come loose from the bottom of her bowl.

Marla was among the oldest girls in the Catholic boarding school. At age fifteen, she led other girls in reading Chaucer, figuring mathematics on the cracked blackboard, and even made little dolls out of scraps of cloth she found in the nursery to give to the tots. By the end of the day, Marla fairly collapsed into bed, having sent baby Lily into dreamland by sheer will, while other girls chattered together before curfew.

Sister Augustine appeared at the dormitory doors soon thereafter and complete silence overtook the hall. "May the Lord in His goodness shine down upon us as we sleep," her voice echoed into the far reaches of the chamber, "and may Virgin Mary keep your dreams pure for if we meet in heaven in the morn, our confessions remain none."

"Amen," Marla intoned, wondering if in time she would be called upon to recite those prayers in younger dorms. But she fell asleep before she could rehearse them for a second time.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The next morning, Marla awoke to Headmistress Beatrice calling her name instead of the bell ringing in her ear. "Come," she said as she swept out of the room. Marla jumped out of bed and grabbed her coat she followed the grey-haired woman out of the dormitory and into the long, torch-lit corridor. She wrestled the coat right-side-out while attempting to smooth down her wild black hair with her other hand; then her arm got stuck in the coat and she struggled briefly until Headmistress took hold of the narrow shoulder and helped her settle.

Marla bit her lip and murmured, "Thank you." The tall woman didn't say a word until they reached her office, which was a recent addition to the mansion on the edge of a cliff in Scotland. The tiny orphan loved sneaking out at night to sit on the catwalk and watch the waves crash against the earth wall. That is, until fourteen-year-old Ably discovered how and when the best times were to facilitate the deserted spot and stole away with Joseph, the gardener, to spend time alone.

Headmistress opened the solid wooden door leading to her office and followed her charge inside. There, a well-dressed businessman stood from the straight-backed chair in front of the oak desk. The girl frowned. He had a round face and plump fingers that he extended to her in greeting.

"Now, Mr. Clannic," Beatrice snapped, pulled Marla out of the way before she could touch hands in a semi-concerned manner, "explain to Miss Lainey the situation, and be brief. It is nearly midnight." The man cleared his throat, smoothing the long mustache adorning his upper lip. He didn't speak for a moment and Headmistress sighed.

"The matter of fact is, Miss Lainey," she spat at Mr. Clannic, "that this facility cannot host so many students any longer. Many of the youngest girls have been adopted or transferred as of this evening." Marla remembered Gretchen and Irene had been escorted out of the room by two grungy women who looked they had taken soot showers.

"This gentleman is a representative for the lord of Heightwoods Castle several miles north. He is--"

"My employer," Mr. Clannic interrupted roughly, smiling at the Headmistress before turning his attention to the confused girl beside him, "is seeking hardworking, strong females to keep his home and gardens. I have heard very high recommendations from Sister Beatrice," he held out the olive branch, "and if you would please, pack warmly for there are strong winds at Heightwoods."

"Wait..." Marla whispered, unable to work her voice properly. "I don't want to leave. I like it here."

"I'm sorry, Miss Lainey." The Headmistress looked truly remorseful as she added, "The papers have been signed, and you are lawfully required to go with Mr. Clannic. Now, Sister Marybeth will assist you in packing." Marla stood in shock as Headmistress pulled upon a rope next to her desk and soft-spoken Sister Marybeth entered to usher the confused girl back to her dormitory.

As the thick oak door creaked shut, Marla caught one last glimpse of Headmistress sitting at her desk. She was watching the only charge she liked be led away. Her eyes said, "I'm sorry."


End file.
